Irresistible Force (K-9 Rescue #1)
D. D. Ayres
CHAPTER ONE
Surveillance was simpler in the South in autumn. It was hunting season in North Carolina. A man dressed in camouflage and carrying a rifle in the woods didn’t rate a second glance. The thick canopy of summer had yielded a blanket of damp leaves that made soft whispery sounds underfoot. Sparse branches improved viewing range, even in the darkness. Forecasters had predicted that by dawn, the frost would give way to the promise of an Indian summer day.
It was just the sort of weather James Cannon enjoyed on his day off from the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department. However, tonight he was on the job, alone in an unfamiliar area, and closing in on what might be a desperate character.
James’s alertness level ratcheted up as he came to the edge of the woods he had been passing through. The absence of Bogart gnawed at his focus. They were always on duty together, had been until a month ago. That’s because James’s law enforcement partner had been kidnapped. The cabin in the clearing just ahead was the purported location where he was being held.
Ever since his partner had been taken, he’d spent a hellish amount of time tracking down useless leads. He’d been afraid, as the days stretched out, that Bogart was dead.
He jerked his thoughts back from that murky water-under-the-bridge reality to the present. Now he had his first good lead, and it had led him here.
He slowed as he reached the clearing. The cabin stood alone and dark in the distance. He’d been told that the woman who rented it lived alone. But he never relied on hearsay when it counted. Two years in the military police plus four years on the job made him cautious. He needed facts. He’d come here, in the wee hours, to check things out for himself.
He eased down into a crouched position to survey the terrain. Almost immediately, something at the edge of his vision caught his eye. It was the absolute stillness of an object amid the natural stirrings of a rural night. He turned his head to discover he wasn’t the only one doing surveillance on the property.
Fifteen feet away, a truck sat in the deep shadows at the edge of the tree line on the unpaved track that ran through the forest. Had James not been on foot, he and the driver might have met in the woods.
James rose and moved in a little closer to try to get a better look at the vehicle to determine if it was occupied. It was. A man in dark clothing, unlike James’s hunting gear, sat behind the wheel.
Something about the furtiveness of his actions, the way he just sat with headlights and engine off, increased James’s suspicion that something illegal was going on here. He wondered if the driver was standing guard. Or, perhaps, waiting for someone?
Even as he pondered his options, a light flared and drew his attention back to the cabin.
A woman had stepped out of the cabin onto the porch. She didn’t bother to turn on the porch light, nor did she carry a flashlight. She was simply a slight figure in silhouette for the instant she was backlit by the open doorway. Then a dark furry animal shot past her out the door. The dog was moving at full throttle, coming straight toward the woods, and James.
One bark was all it took to confirm the identification. James’s heart squeezed tight, and though he would have denied it to his own mother, he had to blink away the threat of a watery leak in his left eye.
It was Bogart! He was unharmed! He was in good voice. Recovering his partner was going to be easier than he’d thought possible.
James stood to call the dog to him but the sound was lost when the truck’s engine suddenly roared to life. Headlights caught Bogart in their full flare but the dog did not hesitate. He was after the truck and his barking increased, signaling that he had found his prey.
“Prince! No! Come here!” The plaintive cry of the woman who’d been on the porch diverted James’s attention. She’d left the porch and was running toward the woods. “Come, Prince! Heel! Heel, boy!”
The dog paused uncertainly and turned to look back at the woman just as she entered the circle of the truck’s headlights. She was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie but her feet were bare.
“Heel! Heel, Prince!” Her voice was strained with emotion as she bent down to scoop up something.
Even as the driver threw the truck into reverse and floored the pedal, she stood up.
“Bastard!” She launched what must have been a rock or a heavy piece of a tree limb at her Peeping Tom.
James couldn’t help but admire her strength and aim. The missile bounced off the hood of the truck even as it blasted backward.
“Heel! Heel, Prince!” She began running back toward the cabin.